Strangeness in Proportion
by Jonquille Theravada
Summary: Spinelli is in her senior year of high school. Soon things will change forever. Every other chapter is a memory told from TJ's perspective. TJ/Spinelli
1. Chapter 1

When we were kids, all of us used to spend the night at Teej's house. We'd unroll sleeping bags on the floor and tell ghost stories. It didn't matter that Gretchen and I were girls, as it never mattered. As we progressed to young adults, those sleepovers became less frequent. The inches we grew in height became inches we'd grown apart from one another. We'd still hang out, and TJ was still my best friend, but things understandably change.

Sometimes, more as an act of reminiscing than anything else, we'd have sleepovers. It was on such an occasion that I woke up with a weight on my side and something moist on my neck. I'd realized that TJ and I had fallen asleep on the same couch. It wouldn't have been awkward if we weren't facing the same way, but we were, and I needed to fix the situation before the other guys woke up and gave us shit.

"Teej," I said.

"Mmmm," he answered, pulling me closer. Oh, God, this is going to be uncomfortable.

"TJ," I said, a little louder, "wake up."

I heard the deep pulls of his sleeping breath become a little shallower as he woke. He sat up quickly.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's cool. We might've had a waking up like Mikey and Gus are going to." I motioned over to the two enormously tall boys who were essentially spooning on the floor. Teej and I started laughing hysterically.

"Oh Man," he managed to get out, "that is good."

"Let's just let them sleep. They look so peaceful," I said. "What do you want to do today?"

"Uh, I don't know. Do you need to like, get ready?"

"Have I ever needed to, like, get ready?"

"I like what you're wearing now. It's the strangest one yet," he said good-naturedly. I have what Mikey calls "a creative and free-spirited" way of dressing, which means I don't look at what I grab from my closet before I put it on and have no real sense of style. Yesterday I'd wound up in an absurd combination of plaid, stripes, and a floral pattern.

Our conversation was ended abruptly by a deep scream coming from Gus, who'd woken up. Mikey didn't seem to mind the situation and pleasantly smiled as Gus frantically crawled away. The entire scene was too much. Teej and I were laughing so hard we fell off the couch and collapsed into a pile on top of a still-sleeping Vince.

"Race you to the kitchen," I said, trying to mimic how I sounded as a kid.

"You're on," Teej answered, doing the same.


	2. Chapter 2

_Freshman Year_

"I heard you broke up with Lawson," I said to Spinelli, kicking a rock as we walked down the street.

"I did," she answered. She didn't seem to look upset by it, so I pressed on.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, since you're so curious, Teej," she said teasingly, "he wanted to take our relationship to a more physical level."

"So you just broke it off right there?"

"No," she answered, a gleam of mischief flashing over her eyes. "I did exactly want he wanted."

"What? And you didn't want to? Spinelli!" I said, disappointed and angry. I'd never been a fighter but I was going to absolutely _kill _Lawson for that. Since the time that everyone had started dating, I'd made it pretty clear to guys that Gretchen and Spinelli's hearts were not to be broken.

Spinelli started laughing. "Relax. I took it to a more physical level alright… by punching him in the face."

I exhaled in relief. "Good," I said back. I was proud of her. We spent a few minutes in comfortable silence until Spinelli broke it by asking a question.

"How's Ashley A. doing?"

I got a little awkward then. "I guess she's fine."

"What's bothering you?"

As if in defeat, I sighed. "Ashley A."

Spinelli doubled over in a fit of laughter. "Ah, that's hilarious. How long have you guys been dating, now?"

"Well, let's see… I'm expected to buy her an 18-month anniversary present this week, so that long." I heard Spinelli snort when she heard the word "anniversary."

"God, that's a long time. That's too long to date someone when you're a kid," she said, looking over at me.

"I know."

"So…how far have you guys gone?"

"We made eye contact once," I answered. We started laughing, and Spinelli punched my arm playfully.

"No, really."

"We haven't done anything. We were, what, 13 when we started dating?"

"You're 15 now," she pointed out.

"I know. Look, I wasn't going to tell anyone, because that'd be disrespectful towards Ashley, but we're supposed to this weekend."

"Do you want to?"

"Well, I _am _a guy." I stopped walking and turned to look at Spinelli. "It's not right, though. I don't love her, and I don't know how much longer I can date her. If we did anything and I left her right afterwards…"

"…you'd be an asshole." Spinelli was finishing my sentences yet again.

"She's not very nice to you guys, is she?" I asked, changing the subject slightly.

The girl beside me gave a sarcastic-sounding laugh. "I think she gets jealous a lot."

I thought about that for a while and finally she asked, "So, are you going to break up with her?"

"It looks like I'm going to have to."

"Good," she said, smiling. "You deserve better anyway."


	3. Chapter 3

The spirit of adventure had not left me after all these years, but instead grew stronger. On the weekends, TJ and I would do what we called "exercising our right to exploration." That meant that we'd drive in any one direction for as long as we could until we got a little lost. We'd usually just sit in silence when we did this, and it got to be a sort of manic meditation. If one of us had a bad week, we'd have the exploration to look forward to in which we could think and ask advice if needed. We'd tried to invite the other guys, but Gretchen didn't see it as beneficial, Vince thought it sounded boring, and Gus was a little too antsy. Mikey, to his credit, liked the idea and came with us a few times. The isolation got to him, though, and he didn't like having to sometimes be thirty miles away from anywhere that sold Winger-Dingers.

This weekend, it was TJ's turn to drive. The plan was to take every left turn we could, excluding driveways and parking lots. We were sixty miles away from anything familiar and well into an hour and a half of the drive when I was pulled out of my own thoughts.

"I think I'm going to ask Ashley A. to homecoming," Teej said, concentrating on his driving through the winding mountains.

"What purpose would that serve?" I responded, a harsher edge in my voice than I'd intended.

"So I'd…have a date," he said, chuckling a little.

"I think I'm going to throw up," I answered. I didn't like that idea one bit, and though I can reason that it was because I disliked Ashley _very _strongly, I couldn't exactly ignore the sharp and inexplicable feeling in my chest. "I thought you'd learned your lesson from when you guys dated freshman year."

TJ nodded. "People change. Anyway, it's not like I can ask you."

"And why not?" I asked with mock indignity.

"Because you'd say no," he said.

"You don't know that!"

"Alright," he said, exhaling deeply. "Ashley Spinelli, will you do me the honor of attending the homecoming dance with me?"

I waited to build up suspense. "No."

TJ laughed. "That's okay, I have a backup."

"Well, I don't like her and I don't approve."

"Why, Spinelli, are you jealous?" TJ said. He was joking of course, but I knew he had an angle. He was trying to get me to drop it by agitating me just enough. When this sort of thing had come up before in our friendship, he'd played the same card, and I'd told him of course not, I didn't care what he did, go out with her for all I care. I wasn't sure if I was just being paranoid, because TJ usually saves that sort of stuff for charming his way out of trouble.

"Of course," I said back. I waited until I was sure TJ was caught off-guard to continue, "_I _wanted to ask Ashley A. to the dance."

"Very funny, Spin. You don't have to be so cynical about it, it's not like you've ever been to a dance."

"Dances are for saps," I replied. I had no interest in dressing up to stand in a room full of sweaty boys with boners and grinding girls listening to bad music.

"Call me a sap," TJ said, taking his eyes off the road for a second to smile at me.

Our conversation ended there, and we spent the rest of the day continuing what should have been a therapeutic drive, but my head was swimming with thoughts I didn't like, feed by feelings I wasn't fond of.


	4. Chapter 4

_Midsummer, 15 years old. _

"Here goes nothing," I said, grabbing a brown bottle out of the cabinet and bolting out the door. The next day, hungover and ashamed, I told Becky I'd stolen the whiskey and was met with a laugh and the words, "My baby brother is growing up."

Vince, Spinelli, and I were camping with my sister and her fiancée for the week. The other guys had managed to get jobs and couldn't join us. We missed them, but, truth be told, only us three would have embarked on this particular piece of growing up anyway.

We sat on the dock of a pond that looked like it didn't see too many visitors, and twilight cast blue hues on our faces.

"Are you nervous?" Spinelli asked me.

"Yeah," I said. With that, I took a swig. It was the most painful, disgusting thing I'd ever swallowed. Coughing and sputtering, I handed it to Spinelli. "You?"

"I'm not scared of anything," she answered, but her voice faltered just a little. She took a deep breath tilted the bottle to her lips. In the dying light, I could be her eyes grow wide. She lowered the bottle. "That's repulsive. Have fun, Vince."

It was Vince's turn, and his reaction was incredibly similar to mine.

We continued passing the bottle around like this until I started grinning like an idiot. Spinelli was trying to get my attention because she said she really, really needed me to listen to her, and Vince had said something about how nice swimming sounded and dove into the pond before anyone could answer him.

"Listen, listen, Teej," she said, pulling at my jacket. I wasn't sure who started it, or if it was even on purpose, but our mouths were touching and we pulled apart and we were laughing and Vince was splashing around somewhere yelling for us to join him.

The next morning, we woke up next to the pond with throbbing headaches, sick stomachs, and guilty consciences. We agreed to pretend that last night didn't happen, not that we could remember it. I poured the rest of the liquor into the pond and stole a sideways glace and Spinelli who wouldn't make eye contact with me.

On our way back to our campsite, Spinelli nervously looked at me. "I don't remember anything, Teej." The way she said it sounded off. I wasn't sure if she was asking me what I remember, or trying to clarify something with me, or if she was embarrassed about what she did remember.

"Neither do I, Spin," I said, telling myself to forget any happiness I'd felt last night. We'd agreed anyway: nothing happened.


	5. Chapter 5

I'd had the misfortune to have 6th period painting class with Ashley A., who claimed to have been put there because fashion design was full. I was busily painting a watercolor landscape when the intercom announced a light blue 2010 Volkswagen had its lights still on.

"That's my car," Ashley A. said. "May I, like, go take care of that?"

The teacher excused her, but I had a hunch as to what was really going on. TJ didn't have a class this period, and I wasn't exactly an idiot. I asked to use the restroom and strolled out to the parking lot to find my best friend casually leaning against the bitch's car. From a distance, I could see the windows were oddly colored. Nearing it, it became apparent he'd filled her entire vehicle with roses. There was no noise save for Ashley's obnoxiously thrilled squeals. I didn't stick around long enough to hear the goofy line TJ must have come up with to go along with the whole stupid thing.

When I returned to my class, my landscape got considerably stormier. Minutes later, Ashley nearly floated back into the room and right over to me. I did not have the patience for this.

"Spinelli, guess who just totally asked me to Homecoming?" She sounded shrill enough to break glass. It was clear she'd come to me to gloat.

"Randall," I answered.

"Ew, like, what planet do you live on?"

"One I don't like," I said back under my breath. Turning to face her, I unexcitedly added, "TJ Detweiler."

The bell rang before she could say anymore. It was a good thing, too, because I would have hit her hard had she pressed on.

* * *

><p>The remaining periods continued as uneventfully as they could have, and I did a remarkable job of controlling my anger. The school day finally ended and hallways were clogged with students. Trying to relax myself, I began my usual route out a side door.<p>

"Spinelli!" I heard TJ shout. He was directly in front of me, with his arms outstretched like he was prepared to hug me. I ducked under his right arm and continued walking to my own car. He made a confused noise and followed me.

"Aw, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," I said flatly. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh. Well, guess what?"

"You have a date for Homecoming," I answered. I knew I shouldn't have been this mad, but I was.

He continued to walk a pace behind me until I got to my destination. Gretchen was waiting on the passenger's side of my car so I could take her home.

I began grinding my teeth. "Have fun with her. Bye, Teej."

I heard an exasperated sigh from behind me and I unlocked my car. We both got in, and I watched TJ walk away. Once he was a safe distance from us, I punched the ceiling, startling Gretchen.

We pulled away and she cleared her throat. "Is there any deep, dark secret you'd care to share with me yet?"

I hated the way she'd worded that, like she was just waiting for something.

"No."


	6. Chapter 6

_7__th__ grade_

We were still getting used to the culture shock that was middle school. Spinelli had even admitted to missing Finster at one particularly weak point. To be honest, we were all a little scared. We felt that we belonged back in a cushioned world. It baffled us how easily certain people had made the transition and how easily certain people changed.

Since the junior high took in kids from three different elementary schools, Gretchen found a few kids who she could talk about science and junk with, and we saw a lot less of her because of that. Vince tried out for the basketball team, and, of course, made it. He wound up spending a lot time with his teammates and soon we'd only hang out with him on the weekends. As it turned out, Gus had found a military club and spent lunches meeting with them, leaving Mikey, Spinelli, and me alone every lunch period.

Of course, Spinelli and Mikey had made a lot of friends, and so had I, but all three of us agreed to stick together as long as possible. If we all went our separate ways, who knows how long it would be before all six of us were nothing more than strangers?

We were barely settling into our routine in early October when an older boy with a crooked nose and a ruddy face approached us during our lunch period, which we spent on the floor in front of our lockers rather than in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Mike," he said maliciously, "what's it like to be the biggest flaming faggot in the entire school?"

Before either Mikey or I had time to react, Spinelli had leapt at him from where she sat. The force of her tackle had knocked him over, and he fell so hard that a loud, painful-sounding thud rang through the hallway. She clutched the collar of his shirt with one hand and raised her free fist above his face.

"Wanna apologize?" Her voice was low and dangerous.

The boy looked like he was going to start crying. "Get this crazy bitch off me!"

"That," she said, raising her fist a few inches higher, "wasn't what I was looking for."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whimpered.

Spinelli got off of him, and brushed herself off. I glanced over at Mikey, who was cradling the compass he kept around his neck. It amazed me how mean kids could be. No one would ever say something so awful about the guy if they knew him.

"Sorry that Blumberg likes to suck dicks in his spare time," the boy called from behind. Instantly, I said a silent prayer for that kid. There was murder in Spinelli's eyes and she didn't miss a beat as she turned to punch him in is already messed-up nose. The boy ran away shouting about how he was telling, leaving only a trickle of blood and a certain awkwardness.

I began clapping but Mikey touched my arm as if he wished for me to stop.

"I appreciate that you stood up for me, Spinelli, but we should have just ignored him."

"What do you mean, just ignored him? He'll never bug you again, now!"

"But he'll also never be my friend again!"

"Mikey," she sat down next to him and touched his shoulder, "you don't want friends like that anyway."

He nodded but didn't let go of the compass. I had a feeling Mikey was beginning to rethink whether or not middle school was a good place for him.

* * *

><p>Spinelli lived a few doors down from me, and we tended to walk the several blocks home together. This day was no exception.<p>

"Do you think what that kid said was true?" I asked after I'd worked up enough courage. I knew that, although I wouldn't think any differently of Mikey, most kids our age tended to be a little homophobic.

"Nah, he wouldn't tell on me. He'd have to admit to getting beaten up by a girl!" Spinelli started laughing.

"No," I said slowly, "I mean…the other thing."

"Oh." There were a few minutes of silence. "It doesn't matter one way or another."

"What do you mean?"

"Mikey's the sweetest guy I know. Being gay doesn't change that. Mikey is Mikey and Mikey's my friend."

I stopped walking and turned to face her. She noticed and did that same. I put a hand on either of her shoulders and looked at her hard.

"You," I said, "are the coolest person I have ever met."


	7. Chapter 7

"Well, you know, there are plenty of boys who're interested in you," Gretchen said as we neared her house.

"I know, Gretch," I answered, "I have one in mind in particular." With that, I dropped her off and headed home.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next day to the sounds of shuffling in my room.<p>

"Get out, Mom," I said, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Okay, sweetie," came a falsely high-pitched voice.

I said up quickly to find TJ, who thought he was absolutely hilarious, hunched over laughing. "Get out," I said, flopping back down.

"Aw, come on, Spin. Your mom let me in; she said I could get you up. I have something for you."

"This had better be good," I said, rolling off my mattress and standing up. "Do I need to put on clothes?"

TJ looked down at my oversized, ripped-up Señor Fusion t-shirt. He coughed, blushed, and looked away.

"What?" I asked.

He started laughing again. "Nothing, really,"

I grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him a little closer. "Tell me."

"I cannot, in good conscience, do that," he said. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor and my hands fell to my side. Satisfied, TJ walked towards my door. "Be ready in five minutes."

Once I had gained composure, I realized about two minutes had elapsed since he'd left. Who did he think he was, and what the hell did he mean? It couldn't have been that bad.

Hurrying, I put on some lace tights. In my irritated state, I pulled too hard and left a huge hole in the thigh. I punched my wall in frustration and headed down stairs.

"I am _not _in any mood for any of your lame ideas, Teej," I called as I stomped down the stairs.

"Does two tickets to Wrestle Mania sound like a lame idea?" TJ said, fanning himself with slips of paper. "There's one catch, though. You have to spend four hours both ways in the car with me."

"That's a dirty trick," I said, snatching one of the tickets from his hand. "Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note: **_**Sorry about how long it took to update, what with Christmas and everything, it's been hard. It also took me a while to think of a subject for this particular chapter. It's also 2:58 in the morning in my little Colorado town, so forgive all spelling errors and typos.**

**Spinelli IRL****: Your review was very encouraging. I have a general idea as to where the story is going, but I'm not entirely sure, and that was a pretty good idea. Thank you. I hope I hear more input from you. **

**Erin****: Thank you very much. **

**Burton's Disney Princess****: You most certainly will hear about it, in the next chapter. When I manage to finish writing it. Hahaha. **

**Thank you all for reviewing and putting this story in your favorites and whatnot.**

* * *

><p><em>Junior Year<em>

There's a point in every kid's life, I think, when he or she realizes that a lot has changed. That moment happened to me around Christmastime when I was sixteen or so. My entire group of friends and then some were all gathered for a holiday party to exchange gifts and such, and at one point in the evening, for whatever reason, I happened to be in the kitchen alone with Spinelli for a few minutes.

During that time, I noticed exactly how different Spinelli had become. When you see someone every day for most of your life, you don't really think about what they look like. Or at least, I don't. I'm amazed at how oblivious I can be, actually. The pretty girl who used to strike fear into the hearts of other children with her fierceness, the preteen who went through a horrifically awkward scene kid phase in the 8th grade, my best friend since before I could read, had somewhere along the line grew up and became a woman.

Not only that, but I'm embarrassed to say that the first word that came to my mind when I discovered it was _voluptuous_. There wasn't any real denying that she'd always been attractive, what with the full lips and almond-shaped eyes, but I hadn't ever appreciated the other things that came along with age. She was curvy now, and wearing some unreasonably mismatched, eclectic jumble of things that only Spin could make look good. Her hair had gotten so long. Everything about her seemed so effortlessly, fascinatingly beautiful.

"Whoa," I said before I could catch myself.

Completely unaware of the fact that I'd been practically staring at her, she glanced up. "What?"

I wasn't sure what to say and I began blushing pretty hard and rubbing the back of my neck nervously. It was weird, but I figured she knew me well enough to practically read my thoughts, and at the moment my thoughts weren't exactly respectful.

"Nothing," I managed to choke out, realizing a little too late that the best possible way to handle the situation would have been to _actually _act like it was nothing rather than acting like a complete idiot. Not that I could help it.

"Really, Teej, what is it?" Spinelli looked concerned. It occurred to me that she'd rarely ever seen me anxious.

"Um, I don't know. When did you get your nose pierced?"

"Definitely over a year ago," she said, laughing and giving me a strange look.

"Oh. I like it. You look nice."

"Thank you?" Spin answered, looking unsure and about as awkward as I felt. The entire situation was getting a little tense, and I think I'd done more than enough damage.

"What was it Butch wanted to show us?" I asked a little too quickly, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Oh! I don't remember, let's go find out!" She grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the room. The physical contact wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but the shiver that ran through me when it happened was. I looked at the woman in front of me, as wild as she was alluring, and tried really, really hard to keep the feeling I've always had for her dormant.


	9. Chapter 9

It was absolutely silent in TJ's car. It wasn't the kind of comfortable quiet we usually had, either. It was heavy and tangible and awkward. I turned on the radio and, because the universe thinks my life is fucking hilarious, the middle of some Adele song was playing. I nearly growled and practically punched the radio off. There were a few beats in which we both recognized just how upset I was, and TJ stiffened up and didn't look over at me and I sat, completely on edge, staring straight ahead.

"So, you're mad at me," TJ said tentatively. "Because you don't want me to go to Homecoming with Ashley. Because…you think she's mean." It was clear that he was ill at ease, not knowing what might set me off or offend me.

"I _think _she has daddy issue. I _think _she has a queen complex. I _know _she's mean."

"Spin…"

"Pull over."

"Spinelli," he said, sounding a little frantic.

"I just want some air. Pull over."

TJ begrudgingly pulled into some rest stop off the side of the highway and I stepped out of the car, slowly breathing in the air that was too cold for September, and stretching my legs.

"Do you still want to talk?" TJ asked, looking at me from the other side of his vehicle.

"What's there to talk about?" I responded, squinting at him.

"Well, I mean, if you felt so strongly about it, I could cancel and we could do something else that night. I'd feel really bad about her having to find another date but I mean, dates come and go, but friends like you are forever."

"I'm busy that night," I answered.

"Oh, are you?" His tone was playful, like he was suspecting I was just being stubborn. Something about that put me off.

"Yeah, I have a date."

He looked hurt then, like a lost little boy. His expression was almost cute, actually.

"But you said," he took a deep breath, "You said that you didn't want to go to homecoming."

"I didn't say I was going," I replied.

"So who are you going out with?"

"Robert, he'd coming back into town from college that weekend."

Recognition registered on his face. "King Bob?"

Robert had always been king of something—in elementary school, he'd been the king of the playground. In high school, he'd been prom and homecoming king. Now that he was a sophomore in college, I'm sure he'd found kingship somewhere in his fraternity or classes.

"I need a minute," TJ said, and walked away from the rest stop and over to the trees. I couldn't be sure, but off in the distance I thought I'd heard him say something about being stupid.


	10. Chapter 10

_Late Junior Year_

It was my birthday and I was in an amazing mood. Spinelli had grabbed my hand and pulled me into a room and closed the door. I was grinning by now. This was so like Spinelli. Finally. Finally. She was here and I was here and it felt right. I was sure of where this would lead.

"I kissed Jonny V."

My smiled faded, as did my happiness. This was not what I had expected. "You _what_?"

"I know, I know. It's just…he's so…I don't know. Don't tell anyone."

"Spin, why would you…" I sat down on the bed, my face in my hands. "Okay. So why did you drag me away from my birthday party?"

"Hey, keep your voice down. No one has to know we're in here. I thought you might want to hide from him with me," she said hopefully, grinning.

"Spin, you are so lucky I love you."

She smiled and sat next to me. "_You _are the lucky one. Ashley Q. was looking at you like she wanted to tear off your clothes. I saved you. You should be thanking me."

"Yeah, lucky me," I answered sarcastically. "Spin gets to kiss someone on my birthday, and I don't."

"Don't be so bitter," she said, crossing her legs. She was wearing some delicate dress that looked just completely absurd with her combat boots. I stifled a laugh.

"You," I said, shaking my head, "are something else."

"Close your eyes," she said.

"What?"

"Teej, just do it."

I did as I was told, and felt her lips on mine, so briefly I couldn't be sure if it was actually happening. Then I felt them again, harder, parted, and hungry. And then they were gone. I opened my eyes.

"No one has to know about that, either," she said. "Happy birthday, Teej."

It was several hours later, and Spinelli had fallen asleep on the bed. I don't think I'd moved at all from where I'd sat down originally. I just stayed there and watched her. I had no idea why, but I felt so sad and so angry and so in love. _No one has to know_.

I stood up and kissed her forehead, then exited the room. Vince and Gretch were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching something on TV. Everyone else was asleep on the floor or in different rooms.

"Hey," I said solemnly.

"Hey, hey! So you and Spinelli?" Vince asked, grinning.

"I must say, it's about time," Gretch added.

"No," I said, sitting next to them. "It will never happen."


	11. Chapter 11

Robert picked me up a bit after 8 o'clock, just as he planned. I was surprised at how different he looked. There was something to be said about the physical difference between high school boys and men well into the middle of college. He was muscular and at least a foot taller than me, with dark hair and a certain boyish charm about him that was almost reminiscent of TJ. Almost.

"You look good," he said, looking me over, appraising me. I didn't like how shamelessly he did so, but then, he was leagues ahead of me as far as dating experience goes.

"Thanks. You good, too," I said. I would have blushed, I think, had I had any feelings for him beyond attraction. But I didn't, and I'm sure he didn't either. He lived so far away and we both knew this wasn't really going anywhere.

"So what do you want to do? A buddy of mine is throwing a party later on. We could get some food and head over."

"I'm cool with whatever," I said. In the back of my head, I imagined TJ and Ashley A. out for dinner by now. He would have said something nicer than just stating that she looked good. His eyes probably didn't comb over her body is whatever absurd, probably frilly dress she was wearing. Then, he probably had feelings for her that ran a bit deeper than physical attraction. Oh, God, I was getting angry. I needed to push those thoughts and feelings as far away as I possibly could. I was with Robert, I was going to have a good time.

"That's what I like about you, Spinelli. You're not like all the other pretty girls I've met. They're used to having things set out all perfect. They're spoiled brats."

The compliment made me feel uncomfortable, mostly because it seemed like he really meant it, and I wasn't interested in this going deeper than a few dates whenever he visited, but also because it hit home with the situation regarding Ashley A.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Robert. Let's just have a good time," I said, smiling a little. He returned the smile. Grinned, actually.

We walked to his car, and he drove us to a local pizza place. Some girls from my school walked by, decked out in their formal attire. Oh, God.

"Hey, is it Homecoming this weekend or something?" Robert asked, looking at the girls.

"Yeah," I said, wanting to move past the subject.

"Why didn't you go? I would have been your date, even though high school stuff isn't really my scene. It'd have been cool to see the old place."

"High school stuff isn't really _my _scene either," I said as we sat down.

He looked at me for a second. His eye narrowed. A smile danced on the corners of his lips. "You're a really cool girl, did you know that?"

"Nah, I just don't care about stuff like that. I'm counting down the days until I can get to college and study about stuff I care about."

He chuckled. "I don't know, I'm studying a lot of stuff I don't care about still."

"Maybe you've got the wrong major," I answered. Our pizza had arrived by then, and I took bit, hungry bites.

"What are you going to major in?" Robert asked, watching me eat. It made me feel uncomfortable, the way he was staring at me.

I swallowed. "Art, I think. Something with no career options," I laughed.

"So cool," he said quietly.

When we pulled up to the house, the party was in full-swing. The music was blaring, and I was a little nervous that the cops would get called on a noise complaint.

"I'm only going to drink a beer or two since I have to drive you home," he said. He grabbed my hand, and I would have pulled it away if I weren't so interested in where he was going with this. He brought my hand to his lips. "But I don't mind taking care of you if you get a little too drunk," he added, smiling devilishly at me.

I pulled my hand away and rolled my eyes. "You don't have to worry about me," I said. I'd made up my mind that I would drink that evening, but not too much. Just enough to take the edge off of the fact that my best friend was currently grinding on someone I would be happy to never see again.

We entered the house to shouts of "King fuckin' Bob!" and "Robert, my bro!" and I couldn't help but feel a little awkward, being his date and therefore somewhat the center of attention. I'd really, honestly forgotten how popular he was when he lived here. I very, very rarely thought about things so impermanent as popularity.

Almost instantly, someone handed me a cheap beer. I cracked it and took a sip. I sort of liked the way it tasted. It reminded me of wrestling matches, of evenings with my brother and father. I took a deeper drink and smiled. This was fine. I didn't mind this. I was having a good time, talking pleasantly to people who I hadn't seen since they graduated from my school two years ago. All these people, it seemed, had transcended the ridiculous hierarchy that high school presents. They cared more about what you were planning to do with your life than what you were wearing.

Before I knew it, my beer was done. I wandered to the kitchen and found a new one. Absent-mindedly, I glanced at my phone. Two texts from TJ. I nearly groaned. The first one just wished me luck on my date, and the second one was send an hour later asking me what I was doing with "King Bob." It wasn't like TJ to text me like this. Usually, we'd talk for a few hours on the phone or he'd just show up at my house. But then, usually we weren't on dates.

I pushed "reply" and told him I was at a party with Robert. Spitefully, I added that it was _far _more stimulating than a high school dance would ever be. Really, truthfully, it was. But TJ's texts had still peeved me just a bit. It was a reminder that I was mad at him. Without a second thought, I downed the beer I'd just opened. I stood there for a minute before retrieving a third. I felt a bit dizzy, and perhaps a little flushed, but other than that I was perfectly fine. I walked back into the main room and was greeted by everyone happily. I felt special, having so many people happy to see me after I was gone for only a few minutes. I wondered if that's how Ashley A. felt every day. I banished that thought the second it entered my head. All these people were interested in my personality, not what I was wearing. Here, no one was popular and no one was unpopular. We were all equals and that's how I liked it.

After an hour or so, Robert came beside me and nudged me. "Which beer is that?" he asked.

"Fourth," I answered.

"Is it your last? I'd hate to take you home drunk."

"Why?" I asked, my judgment somewhat gone. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked, because _obviously _it was a bad idea to return home drunk.

"Well," he answered, leaning over me and putting his hands on the wall on either side of me, "I can't kiss a drunk girl goodnight. It's against my morals." He smiled boyishly, looking down at me.

"Don't act so charming," I said. "I can't kiss someone with such ridiculous pickup lines. It's against my morals." I smiled in a similar manor as he did, and slid from under his arms.

He grabbed my wrist and turned me around. "Spinelli, lines aside, I'd really like it if you drank a glass of water before we went home. Speaking of which, when would you like to go? It's 12:15."

"I don't know, I don't really have a curfew," I said, a little stunned that he was concerned about me. I'd almost, in the most cynical part of my mind, expected him to _want _me to get drunk so I wouldn't refuse his advances. I'd misjudged his character. "When do you think people will be passing out?"

"Maybe two or three."

"Do you want to stick around for an hour or so? I can try and sober up by then." For some reason I couldn't quite explain, I suddenly wanted to impress him. In the shallowest parts of my mind, I wondered why I hadn't spent more time on my makeup. Why I hadn't bothered to wash my hair. It was silly, really, but I felt like my heart could perhaps open to him. The only other person who showed concern for me like this was TJ, and even then it was in more of a brotherly way.

"That sounds good. And hey, if we had an hour you could probably start another beer and still sober up." He winked at me, and I blushed. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Maybe not. I smiled.

I didn't sober up. In fact, I got quite a bit drunker. To his credit, Robert politely offered me a piece of toast, which I politely refused as I was worried I'd throw up. He offered me a glass of water as well, which I chugged. It didn't do much to get rid of my spinning hear though.

"You'll thank me in the morning for making you drink that," he said. "I'd make you eat the toast, too, if I were a meaner guy."

He helped me to the car and buckled my seatbelt, something I felt fully capable of doing. I nearly pouted at the fact that he was coddling me like this. He saw my expression and laughed.

"You know, you're awfully cute when you're drunk. In the least creepy way possible."

He drove the several blocks to my house and I sat there, thinking about what he'd said. We pulled up to my house at 2:05am and I knew what I wanted to tell him.

"I read you wrong."

"Oh?" Robert said, opening my door. He wore the same smile he'd had all evening.

"I remembered you as shallow. I only went out with you because I thought it'd be something to take my mind off of things." Fuck, that came out wrong. I wish I hadn't drank so much.

"Twist the knife left, now," he answered. His eyes were bright and I knew he was giving me a hard time. "Spinelli, I haven't seen you in a while and I've grown up quite a bit. I used to be shallow, I see where you're coming from. I wish I were as cool as you when I was in high school. You have the right idea. You don't care about all the stupid shit that I did when I was your age. You care about important stuff."

I stared at him open-mouthed, still sitting in the passenger seat of his truck.

He looked at my face. "What am I say?" Robert said. "This is a conversation for when you're sober. And when I can say in town for longer than three days."

He took my hand and guided me out of his truck and towards my front door. He stopped and turned me around, kissed my forehead, and pushed me forward.

"You have a guest," he said. "I don't want to intrude. But call me in the morning so I know you're alright."

I wasn't sure what he meant, and to tell the truth I was a little miffed he hadn't walked me all the way to the door. I walked up the steps and stopped dead. TJ was sitting on my porch, looking _enraged_.

"H-how long have you been here?" I asked, humbling around in my pockets for my keys.

"An hour, Spinelli."

"An _hour_?" I said, finding my keys and nearly falling into the door. Whatever mask of sobriety I was trying to wear was gone now.

"Have you been drinking?" TJ asked, holding onto my arm to steady me.

"Yes, TJ, I was at a big kid's party," I said. I was being rude, I know, but I was angry.

"Let me help you, Spin," he said, opening the door for me.

"Go home. You opened the door for me. Thanks. I bet Ashley A. is waiting for you at your house."

"It's past 2:00am. You know that girl doesn't have the time to wait around that long," he said, smiling at me.

I started laughing, and then caught myself. "Please, TJ, go home. I can do this," I said, walking towards the stairs and falling on my first step.

"It looks like you can't," he said. I was sure I could detect a bit of smugness in his voice.

"_Just go home!_" I nearly screeched. "_Haven't you hurt me enough?_"

His eyes look wounded. "I hadn't realized I'd hurt you at all."

I saw what I was doing but I couldn't stop myself. "Really? Really, TJ Detweiler? You didn't see what you were doing?" My anger felt like barbed wire against my heart. "I'm going to bed, asshole." I turned to the stairs and again stumbled.

"You don't mean that," he said, catching me. His voice grew serious, "I'm going to help you now, Spinelli." He guided me up the stairs and into the bathroom. "Do you need to wash your face or something? I'll give you a minute." He closed the door. A few minutes later, he opened it and found me sitting on the sink sounter.

"Come on," he said, lacing his arm around my back.

"You don't need to do this," I protested.

"Yes, I do," he said resolutely.

He guided me to my bedroom and laid me down on my bed. He sat on the floor next to me.

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"I just told you," he said, almost impatiently. "_Yes_, I do."

"I meant sit down there. You can sit up here if you'd like."

"Oh," he mumbled. He stood up and sat next to me. I curled around him and before I passed out I murmured a thank you, and I couldn't be sure but I thought I felt him stoking my hair, some pressure against my forehead, and then blackness.


	12. Chapter 12

"You know," my sister said, combing out my hair. "Just because a girl likes pink doesn't make her worthless."

"Oh, I know," I answered, squirming under her. "Spinelli wears pink all the time and she's perfect." I blushed, hard. That did not come out like I'd wanted.

"So why aren't you going to this thing with her?" Becky asked, moving on to my tie.

"She said no," I said as she nearly choked me.

"Anyway, this girl you're going with," she said, flitting around the room, "she's a person, you know? I mean, you told me that she's really popular and girly or whatever but who the hell cares? If she likes ruffles and celebrity magazines and uses a straightener or a curler on her hair, who cares? I mean, you've been complaining about it all day, TJ. The way she presents herself does not devalue her as a human being."

"I fuckin' _know_," I said, not in the mood for a lecture.

"No, TJ. What I'm saying is that even though this girl is a human, and everything she feels is valid, that does not mean you have to like her or be attracted to her."

"What?" I asked. My sister was a feminist, but I had never expected her to say anything like this.

"It's incredibly rude to take someone on a date when you have much stronger feelings for someone else."

That set in. My eyes widened as I thought of a beautiful girl wearing a mismatched outfit on a date with a much older, more experienced man.

"That being said," she continued, "it's very rude to break off a date the night of. Why don't you ride this out and meet up with Spinelli later?"

"You're—" I began, looking in the mirror at how she'd dressed me up. "You're right."


End file.
